


Nothing Else Matters

by pelli



Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: F/M, Second-Person Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pelli/pseuds/pelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt that deviated a lot (sorry?): Season One, post-wedding; a shitload of Haley's brothers and sisters show up to congratulate them on their marriage. Jimmy has a key so he lets them all in, and N/H are getting busy. Over protective brothers make me happy, FYI. Bonus points if Lucas shows up somehow, being overprotective as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Else Matters

You wake up to a warm breath against the back of your neck and you immediately tense, startled by the company in your bed that you don’t usually (never) keep. Your sleepy haze takes a while to dissolve but slowly, you become more and more aware of your surroundings; the bed, the sheets feel different against your body and all it takes is you rubbing your legs, one against the other, to realise that you’re naked. You don’t usually (never) sleep naked.  The movement also alerts you to a dull throbbing ache between your legs. You don’t know how to explain it, though, because while there’s an ache, it’s only the slightest hint of pain and the rest is a strange desire for something more.

There’s a strong, masculine scent in the air that is, somehow, actually comforting to you and it’s when you register the weight across your torso that the haze, finally, completely disappears and the memories of the preceding day, the early part of the night, slowly filter through your mind. You take in the glowing numbers of the clock on his (now yours, too) bedside table, 1.37, just as you feel his arm tighten around you, effectively pulling your body closer. When you hear the soft sigh he emits as he nuzzles his cheek against the back of your head, you smile to yourself because you think that this boy might love you just as much as you love him.

*/*

When you wake up only a couple of hours later it’s to the stroking of fingers against your side. It tickles, even though it’s the barest of touches, and you can’t help but giggle and shift away from his body. He takes it as a challenge and even though you know you won’t win (you’re not sure if that’s due to his determination or stubbornness and you think it’s probably a little of both) you still try to dodge his grasp. Somehow, you wind up on your back with his body hovering over yours and your laughter, loud and free, fills up the room.

The light from his (now yours, too) bedside clock allows you to see his face and when your eyes meet you feel the shift in the air, the mood suddenly turning serious as his gaze searches yours. You’re not sure what he’s looking for but he must find it because the corner of his mouth turns up in the way that it only ever does when he’s looking at you and you can’t help but smile in return. He lowers his head to brush his lips against yours and you hear him, just barely, whisper _‘mine’_ before he presses his lips more firmly against yours.

Usually, you’d frown at the possessiveness of his statement but the way the word slips from his mouth, soft and tender, causes a tightening that starts in your chest and moves down to your lower stomach.

He shifts his body above yours as he slides his tongue across your lips, gently parting them, and you can’t help the moan that escapes when his tongue slowly dances with yours. He brings one hand down to rest on your hip, his fingertips gliding lazily across your skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps even though his touch warms you. The movement results in his arousal shifting against your thigh and that feeling that was foreign to you before tonight wells up inside you again. The tightening in your lower stomach spreads further when you feel the metal band now sitting on the ring finger of his left hand slide across your stomach and your body arches up in an attempt to get closer to him.

You’re glad you waited to share this part of yourself with him but, momentarily, you wonder if your thoughts on the matter would have changed if you had known how great he’d make you feel.

His fingers continue to caress your body nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You can’t believe how badly you want him and you feel the wetness pool between your thighs at the thought of being able to have him whenever you want, at the knowledge that he’s yours just as much as you are his.

He sends you over the edge once, twice, before he joins you, pushing you over it one final time before collapsing beside you, your bodies sweaty and tangled. You hum softly, unconsciously, as you both shift against each other, getting comfortable before drifting off to sleep again.

*/*

You’re woken up by the ringing of your cell phone and you manage to find and answer it without opening your eyes. When you hear your mother on the line asking what you’re doing you think you might have dreamed the past twenty-four hours. You bring your hand up to rub against your eyes as you mumble a reply, something about it being too early, and you feel the metal of your own ring. The smile forms on your face the same moment you feel Nathan begin to kiss that spot behind your ear.

You love that he’s the one that found that spot; the only one that will ever know it’s there and what kissing it does to you.

You’re pulled back into the conversation when you hear your mother mention the time. A glance at the clock tells you that she’s right; it’s eleven in the morning and your eyes widen in alarm. You hear your mother’s laughter in one ear and Nathan’s in the other, indicating that he’s well aware of the blush moving up your cheeks due to your mother’s teasing words.

She invites you both to the house for lunch, bribing you with a surprise and really, you’re quite sure that there’s nothing left for your parents to do, or offer, that would actually surprise you. Letting their sixteen year old daughter get married is definitely the most unexpected thing they’ve ever done and you had actually believed that you’d be the first of the James’ children to not take advantage of their carefree and lenient nature.

*/*

You’re at the island table in the kitchen when Nathan comes up behind you. You know he’s trying to be silent in an attempt to surprise you but you know that he’s there. You feel different when he’s near; calm? Safe? You’re not even sure how to explain it (not in a way that will make sense to anyone else) because for once you can’t find the words to use.

His hands land on your hips as his lips brush against the top of your head and your smile forms easily; it seems to be a natural reaction whenever he’s near. Your eyes fall closed as you feel him move against you; he brushes your hair away from your neck and his lips trail a light path starting from your shoulder and moving up your neck.

You can’t help the way your head tilts to the side granting him further access or the way a soft moan sounds from the back of your throat when his lips graze that spot behind your ear. He chuckles lightly in response as he spins you around, his lips quickly seeking yours.

He wraps his arms around you pulling your body closer, tight against his, as his tongue delves into your mouth. You get swept up in the kiss easily and you suppose it’s the newly married haze where neither of you can seem to get enough of the other. You know you should attempt to stop him; you’re hardly in the most appropriate of places and he’s devouring your mouth like his very breath depends on it, but when your hands fall to his chest they fist in his shirt and pull him closer rather than making any sort of an attempt to push him away.

“Supermarket’s on the other side of town and you know you’re father won’t be moving until the game is finished; we’ve got plenty of time, baby,” Nathan mumbles against your ear.

“Nathan,” you exclaim. “I’m not having sex with you in my parents’ kitchen.”

“C’mon, Hales,” he whispers into your ear and your body shivers involuntarily. “I just want to make my wife feel good.”

He emphasises his point by pressing his hand firmly against your centre as he dips his head to place his lips against yours. It’s all consuming, the way his mouth moves slowly against yours before he uses his tongue to slowly part your lips. The kiss heats up and he swallows your soft moans as his hands move to rest on your hips. He pulls your body closer to his, the movement causing you to feel his hardness pressing firmly against your centre. As your mouths continue to move in sync, his tongue battling with yours, you remember how good he made you feel the night before and you know that when it comes to this boy, you’re never going to win.

You can’t find it in you to complain about that, though.

A combination of his kiss, thoughts of the preceding night, and the knowledge that this boy is all yours (and only yours, now) have left you breathless and dazed. You suppose it would be okay this once to get a little carried away.

(You don’t mean anything too drastic, though; this is your childhood home and as you don’t live here anymore, you like the thought of it still containing the innocence of your life pre-Nathan; pre-teenage marriage. Still, you don’t see any harm in letting your husband make you feel good.)

Your mother is out, picking up a few items from the grocery store and your father is in the den watching the football game. You have as long as your mother is out because there is no way that your father will be moving until the game is over. (Yes, they’re a basketball town but your father has always stayed loyal to the game he grew up with and he’d taught your brothers [tried to teach you girls, also] to love the game, too.)

You feel his hands grip your hips a little tighter and then he’s lifting you. Your legs automatically rise to wrap around his waist and you feel him set you down on the bench. You’re fairly certain that no other boy can touch you or can make you feel the way that this boy does.

You don’t want any other boy to be able to, though, so that’s alright you think.

As his lips move from yours, tracking a path across your jaw, down your neck and then across your collar bone, your body reacts; your head falls back, your eyes fall closed, your thighs tense and your breath comes out in small pants. He’s leaving a trail of wet open-mouthed kisses across your chest, his fingers delving under your shirt, one hand at your lower back and the other moving across your stomach. You know you’re both getting a little too carried away but you can only manage to let a repetitive chorus of ‘mmm’, ‘Nathan’ and ‘more’ to fall from your lips.

You move your hand to cup his face, turning him to meet your mouth, his tongue swiping against your lips and it’s then that you’re interrupted by a throat clearing.

“Please tell me this isn’t what I have to put up with from now on?” you hear from behind you. After hearing that voice almost every day for the past eight years, you know without even opening your eyes that it belongs to your best friend. It’s _why_ he’s here that you’re not sure of.

Nathan has stilled his movements; he’s removed his hands from where they were under your shirt and settled them both on your outer thighs, his forehead is leaning against your shoulder effectively hiding his face from view as he groans and mutters against your skin, “can’t get away from him”.

You chuckle from your position and you’re glad your back is to the kitchen door, effectively hiding your face and the blush steadily rising up your cheeks.

“What the hell are you doing here, Lucas?” Nathan asks without looking up.

“I think the better question is; what the hell are you doing to my baby sister?”

Your reaction to the second voice (one you again recognise but haven’t heard in a couple of weeks) is immediate; your eyes widen and you pull away from Nathan, turning in an effort to seek out the owner of the voice. You see your two brothers, Thomas and Christopher, standing in the doorway behind Lucas. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them; Tom lives in Chicago and Chris in New York and you had learned to be content with letters, instant message conversations, and phone calls.

You know you shock Nathan with how fast you move, jumping from the bench and rushing across the room, but then, his current facials (jaw dropped, eyes wide) and posture (straight, alert, and tense) could be more to do with the fact that he’s about to meet your brothers (both tall and heavily built) for the first time and neither of them look particularly pleased at the position they’ve found you both in; they’re both standing in the doorway with their arms folded across their chests and frowns on their faces.

“Tom! Chris!” you exclaim as you move towards them. “What are you doing here?”

 You’re across the room with your arms around first Tom and then Chris before they have a chance to reply. Lucas is standing there with a smug smirk on his face as his gaze flickers between Tom and Nathan. Tom has always babied you, treated you like the little sister you are and like you needed all the protection that having a big brother affords. He’s returned to his original position; standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and his gaze settled stonily on Nathan.

It’s Chris that answers your question; “We’ve been in the den watching the game and didn’t realise you had shown up. Mom bribed us all with a trip home because she wanted the whole family here for the weekend. Apparently, she has a surprise for us?”

“Yeah, she failed to mention that this surprise would be front row tickets to seeing our baby sister being deflowered on the kitchen table,” Tom interjects.

You blush slightly as you glance towards Nathan, a small smile on your face that only widens when his eyes meet yours. The look that passes between you is enough to give everything away and in seconds Tom is reacting.

“Oh, hell no,” he shouts as he moves across the room. “Tell me you did not give it up to this dickhead?”

“Tom,” you warn but it’s too late, your response acting as all the confirmation he needed. Everything happens in seconds and you can only watch as Tom’s fist comes into contact with your husband’s face. You’re grateful for your best friend when he steps between your brother and your husband, although, you’re not sure if he’s trying to stop Tom from hitting Nathan again, or Nathan from retaliating.

You’re not sure when you started crying but you see Nathan pushing Lucas away and making his way toward you. He completely disregards the growl that Tom emits bringing his hands up to cup your face, the pads of his thumbs brushing the tears away.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay,” he whispers as he pulls you into a hug. You pull away, though; you’re not crying because you’re upset (you’re a little scared at the tension in the room but more than that, you’re angry). You know the anger is radiating off you in waves and you’re not exactly sure who it’s directed at; your mother for this hastily arranged ‘surprise’, your brother for his reaction, or yourself (somewhat irrationally) for letting yourself get swept up in the moment with your husband.

You bring your hand up to Nathan’s face and lightly brush your fingertips against the already swelling bruise on his cheek. You know the exact moment that your brothers see the ring on your left hand because you hear Chris gasp at the same time that Tom releases a muttered “please, tell me that’s not what I think it is”.

You don’t take too much notice, though, your focus on the way Nathan winces at your touch and you feel your anger slowly ebbing away when he looks into your eyes and offers you that smile that’s reserved for you. You’re murmuring something about ice to reduce the swelling when you hear the front door slam and when you look up you notice Chris with his jaw dropped, Lucas behind him with a mixture of shock, amusement and worry on his face and Tom nowhere to be seen.

You move then, finding a bag of frozen peas in the freezer and placing them against Nathan’s cheek. You fully intend on ignoring the reaction of your brothers, and your best friend, but Nathan grabs your hand, squeezing it lightly as he motions toward the front door with his head. “Go, Hales. I’ll be ‘right.”

There are so many reasons you love this boy but still, you’re finding more every day.

*/*

You open the front door and spot your oldest brother straight away. He’s sitting at the end of the porch on the swing in silence. You move to sit beside him but you make no effort to speak. You may have managed to soothe some of your anger but you’re still mad, even though you know Tom is just looking out for you. (You’re pretty sure he could play the protective big brother role without marring your husband’s face, though.) You’re not sure how long you both sit there in silence for but after some time, Tom reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

“Are you sure about this, Haley Bob? You know what you’re doing, right?”

You look toward him then, meet his gaze and reply without even thinking about it, “I love him, Tom”.

He looks away first; you’re not sure what he’s searching but his eyes are focussed on the horizon and you wonder if he’s thinking about his own marriage (that ended long before it should have).

“He treats you like a man should?”

You nod in reply, unable to find your voice. You know your brothers are well aware of the Scott reputation, especially that of Nathan, but they don’t know him like you do; he’s not the same guy that he was a year ago, even months ago. You think about his freshly formed relationship with his half-brother and, really, if Lucas can move past everything, then your brothers should be able to as well, especially considering that what they know of Nathan, they’ve heard from either Lucas or you.

“You’re my baby sister, you know? I just want you to be happy, kid.”

“I know. And I am. He makes me happy,” you offer with smile and a return squeeze to his hand. You love that he’s looking out for you but you have complete faith in your husband.

“Okay,” he offers with a determined nod. “I’m sorry for hitting him.”

You look toward him then and see the smug expression on his face. “No, you’re not, you liar,” you respond with a grin and a soft jab to his shoulder.

He chuckles before replying, “Saves me from doing it later when he inevitably stuffs up, right?”

“He won’t.”

“You sound sure,” he states, one brow raised.

“He loves me, Tom.”

Tom looks out to that spot on the horizon again as he lifts his arm and wraps it around your shoulder. He pulls you into him with a chuckle and kiss to the top of your head.

“My baby sister, fucking married. Don’t tell Taylor but I totally had a bet with Chris and Quinn that she’d be the first to have a quickie wedding.”

You laugh in response before replying, “Let’s go inside, Tom. I want to introduce you to my husband.”


End file.
